This is how frank vents.

My mouse hovers over the icons. That’s what I’m looking for in the internet. Understanding. Compassion. Freedom. It’s a world that doesn’t have any rules that I can’t understand. I understand all the rules. And even if I fail to understand, or break the rules, it won’t hurt me, I can just learn from it and move on. The real world doesn’t let you learn. It doesn’t want learning, it wants evolution. And it doesn’t want the mind to evolve, it wants your sex parts to become better, stronger. It wants the virus to win, it’s rooting for the rats. It’s an evil monster. I hate it. It’s trying to come to the internet, now. To change the virtual world until it is a reflection of the real one. Now they’re making laws to control the internet. They’re making things illegal. They’re saying no. I wish I could keep them out, but they hold the keys. All the keys. They control the real world. They’re the ones who said that a thought is an action and should be punished as such. The one’s who said that if you own a gun you’ve already murdered someone. If you watch it on TV, you’re a murderer, if you play that game, you’re a psychopath. I’m out numbered six billion to one. Only, it’s nine billion this week, and one billion of them have AIDs. I hate the real world. There’s nothing good in it. All the good came when people tried to break the real world. Get away from it or go around it. God, Beauty, Love, Grace, they’re all in denial of what is real. Feeling is in denial of the cold mechanical nature of our evolving galaxy. You don’t matter, nothing matters, true love is barely even an illusion. That’s what is real. That’s what they want you to accept when they tell you to get real, get with it, get with the program. Machines. Clockwork people fucking and dying so a virus with less mechanical complexity than the computer you’re reading this on can become better, faster, stronger. The machine wants us to keep breathing so we can die. Pave the way for something better. Something that’s not me, or you, or any of us. Something else. People are nostalgic about the past because in the past, they were top of the line, fresh from the factory, fine tuned to deal with the society and ecology of that day, that moment, that lifetime. Now they’re second rate. Can’t keep up, can’t get with it. They don’t have enough processor speed to work the stock market. Their BUS system can’t handle radio and internet and nine kinds of media all at once. I can already feel it. My software is updating on it’s own, but the hardware is showing it’s first signs of stress. I’ve still got room to expand, but there have been times, just a few, when I’ve hit my maximum system parameters and crashed. I had to reboot. I realized I am mortal. It’s a terrible feeling to know you’re going to die today. It’s even worse when you realize you could sum up everything you’ve done in the last two decades in less than a sentence. It’s a terrible thing when you realize you’ve never done anything. I am. That’s it. That’s my sum total. All I’ve ever done is Be. Oh. Yeah. I also helped some E-Coli get to the top of it’s class.